


Nevermore

by amarriageoftrueminds



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Cherik - Freeform, First Kiss, Heavy Petting, M/M, Missing Scene, rated pg-13 because I am a wuss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 04:10:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1290811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amarriageoftrueminds/pseuds/amarriageoftrueminds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>[Missing scene]</b> This is what should have happened after Raven and Charles' contretemps in the kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nevermore

**Author's Note:**

> *checks date* JUNE 2011 OH WOW THIS THING IS SO OLD! *embarrassing* Just found this lurking around on my hd, kind of a 'that scene in Atonement' but for Cherik. Original note says: This was inspired by a couple of things (including [this drawing](http://balphesian.tumblr.com/post/6413144577)) but primarily Sir Ian McKellan saying “ _It would be wonderful if the camera hovered over Magneto’s bed, to discover him making love to Professor X._ ”

 

 

* * *

 

_‘Other friends have flown before –_

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'

_Then the bird said, ` **Nevermore.'**                                                     _

   
                        – The Raven.

 

* * *

 

 

Her fingers were already on the handle of her bedroom door when she changed her mind.

  
She stopped, glaring at the door's wooden panels, superimposing them with the face of the man responsible for the heat of shame in her cheeks. Didn’t know if it was the _anger_ or just the cold night air making her bare skin tingle.

The way he’d cried out! When all she’d wanted to do was share her pride with him, a new breed of happiness – _and, all right,_ _maybe rub his nose in it just a little_. And he’d been repulsed! ‘ _For God’s sake Raven… put some clothes on.’_

 _How long_ , she wondered, how long had it been since he’d looked at her with anything but that vague, pitying disappointment in his eyes?

She tried to remember, and couldn’t. Couldn’t recall a time. Back when they were kids maybe.

Well, Charles had it coming.

He _deserved_ to be shocked.

If Erik could give _her_ a wake-up call, why couldn’t she pass on the favor?

 

_Erik._

 

Raven wheeled around and retracted her steps, feet padding soundlessly in the dark.

  
As she walked, a pale light flared up ahead, around the corner from Erik’s room. 

 

She heard his door opening, realised the light was his, and her heart lifted a beat. Then his low voice came rumbling out, speaking to someone else, and it was only then that she realised what she had been hearing– a third set of footsteps, an unmistakeable, jaunty gait.

  
For a second she just stood there, rooted to the spot with horror as if someone had slapped her across the face - but then her reflexes kicked in.

She ducked sideways, into a shadowy doorway and almost _screamed_ when she saw someone appear at the door opposite –

No! It wasn’t a door, it was a long mirror.

It reflected one half of the corridor, around the corner, and Raven shrank back against the wall to see into it.

  
Erik was hidden from view from this angle, but she could see Charles, who must have been returning from the kitchens.

He was walking down the hallway, bathed in the soft yellow light of Erik’s open door. Head bowed in thought, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his half-buttoned sweater, and not paying attention.

He started from his reverie when the other man spoke: _‘Charles ..._ Is something wrong?’

‘Hmm?’ He looked distracted. ’What? Oh, no. Nothing.’ Charles grimaced, shook his head, not wanting the fuss. ‘I was just thinking about Raven.’

‘She was here.’ Erik said, late night accent curling around his r’s.

 

Raven caught a fleeting look of brotherly disapproval on Charles’ face, and apparently so did Erik, because he added: ‘ _I sent her packing, Charles._ ’

  
‘I’m sorry-’ Charles covered his flash of annoyance, seemed genuinely apologetic. ‘I don’t know _what’s_ gotten into her lately-’

 _Ugh._ How _dare_ he apologize for her! Like she was a naughty child! 

Charles was still speaking. 

‘-I just caught her wandering around the house in the _nude._ ’ 

‘Oh?’

‘We had a bit of an argument about it.’

‘Not on my account, I hope?’

‘Oh no.’

  
Their voices were low; hushed out of respect for listening sleepers, and it gave the scene an odd feeling of intimacy, a sort of stifling hyper-awareness.

Somewhere in the vast house a grandfather clock struck midnight, and the strange feeling stole over Raven that this was the witching hour, the time for dark impulses.

  
‘She’s a good girl, Erik.’ Charles was saying. ‘She’s just a little-’ he chewed his lip, weighed his words, ‘- _confused_.’

‘Aren’t we all?’ Erik replied.  (Though she couldn’t see, she could picture exactly the look on his face.)

  
Charles smiled; more a bunching up of the lips than a smile, carving a crease across his chin.

‘Yes, well... I suppose I’d better get to bed. Unless there was something-?’

‘No. I just thought I'd say good night.’

‘Oh right. Well: _good night_ Erik.’

‘Night Charles.’

‘Good night.’

 

 _Oh God, any second now!_ _Any second now he’ll turn the corner and see me!_

_I’ve got to **move!**_

  
But Charles had doubled back abruptly, addressed his friend before he could shut the door.

 

‘ _Actually Erik,_ _there was something...'_ The way he was shifting about on the spot, it seemed like he wanted to get something off his chest, right some wrong. ‘About our discussion earlier... I know we’ve had our differences of opinion, but I don’t want you to feel I’m not on your _side_.’

  
Deadly in earnest; he could have left it at that, but was obviously seized with the impulse to dig himself a deeper hole. 

  
‘And whatever happens tomorrow, I want you to know you’re _welcome_ to stay here. With me. With all of us. You can build a better life for yourself, Erik. And I _want_ that for you, I truly do.’

 

‘But do you want _me_?’

 

Silence.

 

Raven had to replay the words in her head, just to make sure she had really heard them.

  
They _stung._

They hovered in the air, clanged through the quiet.

 

Charles blinked. His lips formed words and failed to say them.

Raven held her breath. 

She could almost see the gears grinding together in his head as his brain caught up with his ears.

 

‘I- w- what?’

  
‘It’s a simple enough question, Charles.’ Said Erik. There was a sing-song to his voice, in his melodic accent. _‘Do you want me?’_

  
And the silence before was nothing compared to the thundering quiet now.

Behind his blue eyes, Raven could imagine Charles’ thoughts speeding ahead a mile a minute.

  
‘Well, of _course_.’ He said, chiding gently as if he didn’t know any better. ‘Of _course_ I want you, Erik, you mean a great deal to- I m- you’re a _valuable member_ of our team-’

  
The creak of a floorboard.

Raven tensed as Erik’s reflection finally stepped into view, no longer wearing that black roll-neck she had seen him in minutes before; now he wore a long dark bath-robe, knotted softly at the waist, a shard of bare chest visible above.

And something else had changed about him; a shifting, a tipping, like a floodgate opening somewhere. The glacial cool she recognized was gone; the lines of his face seemed different, his gaze was clearer, sharper, more focused. Unwavering. This must be what Erik was like when it was just the two of them, him and Charles.

Charles had  _all_ his attention, without even having to try.  

_Why doesn't he ever look at me like that?_

 

His step had brought Erik closer to the shorter man standing at his door, and he looked down at him.

‘That’s not what I meant, Charles.’ He murmured, from deep within his chest, his voice reverberating in the air.

 

Charles cleared his throat, licked his lips; trying to keep things light. ‘Wasn’t it?’  But he sounded faint. Hypnotised.

 

  
Erik was surveying him closely now, decoding his features with a predatory expression.

When he spoke his voice seemed to come from far away.

‘Tell me…’ He said. ‘Did Raven say why I kicked her out?’

  
Raven thought she might collapse, wondered if Charles’ heart was pounding as hard as this, so hard it hurt - she kept forgetting to _breathe._

  
‘No.’ Charles admitted.

‘I didn’t think so.’ Erik said. There was a kind of danger in his eyes now, a coiled menace.

 

_He’s going to do it._

_Any second now._

_He’s going to-_

 

 

‘What was the reason, do you think?’ Erik was asking. ‘Why do _you_ think I kicked her out?’

 

‘ _Erik..._ ’ His name escaped Charles in a hiss, irritated. He had closed his eyes. _Why_ _did_ _he close his eyes?_

 

Erik had taken another step into the hallway, pushing into Charles’ space as if he wanted to start a fight (Charles had stepped back) and had gone very still.

‘ _Tell me,_ Charles.’

 

‘W-ell…’ Charles seemed to be having difficulty speaking. ‘You wouldn’t take advantage of a young girl like that-’

‘I’m touched you think so well of me, but no. Try again.’

 _Another_ step.

Charles started to back away, his breathing faltered.

‘You’re- you're not the sort of man who goes to pieces just because some nubile young thing throws herself at you.’ He managed.

‘True.’ Erik nodded, voice still distant. ‘But perhaps… perhaps it was because, while I was _kissing_ her-‘

‘-Erik _please_.’

‘-I found myself... wishing she was someone else.’

 

_Someone else?_

Raven felt sick.

_He doesn't want me._

_He doesn't want..._ _**me.**_

  
She heard the air escape Charles’ lips in something like a sigh. His mouth hung open, appalled. In fact he looked winded; could have been about to cry or about to shout.

Raven believed she could see him shiver, even in the dark.

He was shuffling on the spot, uncomfortable, eyes on his feet, hands still in his pockets.

 _Why does he have his eyes down?_ _Why doesn't he **say** something?_

  
‘Charles?’ Came Erik’s deep, dry rasp, burrowing through his composure. ‘Charles…? _Look at me_.’

  
Charles raised his eyes – those sad blue eyes that had all the humanity of the world in them – looked warily up at Erik, and said nothing. And Raven could see a look on Erik’s face she’d never seen before, such a terrible look. She didn’t know what it meant, but it _hurt_. He looked like a wild thing; ancient and desperate and _powerful._ His eyes had darkened to smudges under his brow, black as bruises, doleful and hollow in their sockets, his eyelashes were quivering as if in a high wind. He looked like a man teetering over the abyss; like the wrong words now might destroy him.

  
The sight of him _did_ something to Charles.

A hand extricated itself from his pocket, on instinct, and reached out.

‘Oh _Erik_ ,’ he murmured thickly, distressed. He gazed down at his hand, grasping at the front of Erik’s bath-robe. His lips twitched in a grimace, bitten back words. His hand was stroking up and down his chest, seeking only to comfort, full of sorrow. ‘Erik... why are you shaking...’

 

Erik’s voice fractured, came out as a growl. He put his big hands on Charles’ neck, cupping his face.

‘Don’t you _know_ , Charles?’

‘ _Yes_ I know.’ Charles whispered urgently. There was a sheen across his eyes, his voice sodden, their foreheads were pressed together, breath mingling. ‘I know exactly.’

 

And, suddenly, Raven knew it too.

They adored each other.

  
But she had had no idea, no _concept_ of the pain she could see on show here, in these two men torn apart by love and circumstance. It was a pure, desperate agony that took the breath away, a tragedy so exquisite it was almost _beautiful._

And she knew her brother. She knew his empathy, and that Erik’s pain was his; knew he’d do _anything_ to relieve that kind of suffering whenever he saw it.

 

She knew it before they did, and barely needed to hear Erik’s last question, a guttural vibration of feeling between their lips.

‘ _A_ _m I alone in this?’_ She thought he said. _‘Am I alone_ _?’_

  
‘ _No._ ’ Charles’ voice was heavy with grief as he shook his magnificent head. ‘ _Erik.’_ She could see Erik react to hearing his own name, and knew the feeling– the thought on his face that went something like _It didn’t feel like I_ _had_ _a name until he said it._ Charles leaned back to look up into his face as twin teardrops fell from his eyes, grave and true. ‘Erik. You’re _not_ alone.’

  
And that was it. A choked-off sob and in a split second they were together, mouths opening on each other as if to quench a bottomless thirst. Charles moaned on Erik’s tongue and Erik lifted him, bodily, and pressed him into the opposite wall, one hand nestled in the small of his back, the other sheltering the crown of his head. Charles’ fingers were running down the grooves of dark material stretched across Erik’s biceps, holding on tight as they hit the wall, rebounded, teeth grating, mouths reconnecting desperately.

They made such a striking image, an odd combination of hard male bodies and soft pliant mouths… soft wet sounds.

  
But there was still something – she could see it on Charles’ flushed face that something was wrong.

His eyebrows arched upwards, aggrieved.

He placed the flat of a hand to Erik’s chest and, amazingly, pushed him back; the shorter man wrenching away from their kiss with an audible smacking sound, licking his tingling lip.

  
‘Mmf- Erik, _stop!_ ’

She could understand Erik’s thwarted animal arousal; his face seemed almost magnetised to Charles’ reddened mouth as he looked down on him. Still had him up against the wall, in his arms. Not about to take no for answer.

‘ _What?_ ’ He panted, voice rough, radiating disappointment. ‘You don't want this?’

  
‘I _do_ ,’ Charles’ lips on those words were red and swollen and yearning. ‘But not if it’s out of some- some _misplaced_ sense of obligation.’

Charles clicked his tongue, shook his head as if to throw off an unwanted thought.

Raven thought she recognized that look. It was his principles, his stupid idea of British Manners. They’d left him distraught, guilt-ridden.

Sure enough, he explained – was almost _pleading_ to be understood:

‘You don’t _owe_ me anything, Erik.’

  
Erik had frozen, stunned.

Raven could see him struggling to understand.

Charles thought… thought this was some sort of _quid pro quo_?

 

A change began on Erik’s face. A great, blazing, scornful fondness shone from his eyes, amusement flickering at the corners of his mouth.

He huffed out a laugh that drew his mouth back at the corner, eye-teeth flashing.

‘That’s not what this is, Charles.’ He said, sly and confident. ‘But I do owe you _something_. Everything that I am now is because of you.’

 

‘Erik-’ his resistance was flagging.

 

_‘ **No.** No more talking.’_

( _Yes_ , Raven thought. She definitely recognised _that_ voice. That was _Magneto._ )

_‘Just tell me what you want, Charles.’_

 

No longer talking of emotional wants. 

 

She felt dirty, seeing the way his hands roved over Charles' body, _hungrily;_ the way Charles _reacted_ to them, the secret places they slipped. But she couldn't tear her eyes away.

 

Erik had buried his face in Charles neck, was squeezing up against him, had him pinned against the wall.

_  
_

_‘Tell me what you want..._ ’

 

Quiet, probing, insistent; planting kisses down the pale column of Charles' throat, exposed above his unbuttoned shirt-collar, as he eased his head back to the ceiling.

  
‘I want…’ Charles started. Stopped. Gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing. Weak and starved, unable to voice these truths, for all that he could flirt at the drop of a hat. Charles snarled, banged his head against the wall in frustration, forced the words out. No time for half measures now, none for embarrassment. This was the witching hour.

  
Erik got his reply, and it was so like Charles to be genteel, even while oaths were forcing their way through his lips. It came in a fervent whisper, as he clapped a shaking hand to the back of Erik’s head:

  
‘ _UghGod make love to me Erik.’_

  
And that was that.

 

Erik was dropping his athletic shoulders, reaching down and under, plucking Charles into the air with disarming ease. He was carrying him through the open door, where Charles reached a steadying hand to the lintel.

 

And then they were through, and the door was closing, and Raven couldn’t breathe-

 

 

 

 


End file.
